


Broken

by foreverwayward



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dark fic, Dean Winchester in Hell, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture, Supernatural dark, Torture, Tortured Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverwayward/pseuds/foreverwayward
Summary: Dean hangs on by a thread as his will is tested in the depths of hell. (WARNING: DARK FIC)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Broken

Screams, the kind you can’t even imagine; the ones that rip from the gut and stain your mind like echoes of a nightmare. Desperation, horror, pain…sweeping through the endless space and sucking out the air making you battle for breath amongst the suffering. It hurts to breathe, to open your eyes, to even think. There’s a foul smell of burning flesh that never stops and singes your sinuses. The constant feeling of unending brutality coupled with a complete and utter loss of hope breaking your spirit in ways you could never describe. **  
**

Dean cried out in agony. His lungs burned and his skin sizzled as it was flayed from his body. It came off slowly and in small chunks as the torture drug on. There was no pain on Earth that Dean had ever known that could compare. Hell was beyond comprehension, it was where souls go to be broken into insanity.

Ten years had felt like a thousand with every day being the same as the day before. Tormented in every way possible, Dean had begun to lose himself. His mind was slipping, his memories tainted, and his identity stripped away to nothingness.

With a blood-curdling scream, Dean fought against the restraints of the rack. Blood pooled around his destroyed body and poured from his fresh wounds.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” Alistair hissed as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You’re just too stubborn and too proud. This can all stop.” The demon’s blade sliced into Dean’s stomach and tore through his insides making an audible sound that brought him to the brink of death, but never close enough. “All you have to do is take the blade from my hand; do the work that I know you were made for.”

Tears flowed from Dean as he sobbed in anguish. “No…” he replied gruffly as his lips dripped with a mix of his tears and warm blood.

“No? Oh, Dean. You disappoint me.” Alistair stared Dean in the eyes as his hand reached into his abdomen and rifled around inside. The sounds the hunter made were indescribable and guttural as he was torn apart. Dean’s blood splattered onto the demon’s face and he chuckled. “I do enjoy our time together, Dean. You give me a reason to get up in the morning.” As the Winchester finally passed out, he was immediately forced awake. “Uh-uh. We wouldn’t wanna miss anything, now would we? Stay with me, Dean,” Alistair grinned maniacally. “We’re making memories together.”

Dean continued to fight as he sobbed. “No!”

“No?”

“I don’t deserve to be here!”

“But, don’t you?” The demon leaned into Dean’s ear as he whispered in a tone that sent chills over Dean’s body in the most horrific way. “Would you rather _Y/N_ was here? Should _she_ be on my rack, Dean?”

With what little strength he had left, Dean turned to stare back at the evil creature destroying his soul. “ _Fuck_ … _you_ …”

“Ah, I struck a nerve, didn’t I? Does the thought of me ripping her open hurt you?”

A horrible but somewhat familiar scream came from nearby and Dean’s neck snapped in its direction. It was Y/N. She was tied to a saltire cross with her head struggling to stay up. Her body was beaten and cut as her blood dripped onto the floor. “ _Dean_!” she cried out as she saw him.

“ _Y/N_!!” More tears flowed from Dean as rage boiled inside him. The sound of his restraints clanked against the wood of the rack as he struggled to free himself. “Don’t you _fucking_ touch her!”

Alistair turned the rack to face Y/N to ensure that Dean had a front-row ticket to the show. He slowly made his way to her and seethed through his teeth as he studied her broken figure. “She’s a beauty, Dean. She really is.” Dragging his blade down Y/N’s side, the demon snickered as she shrieked.

“ _Stop_! I swear to god, I’ll _fucking_ kill you!” Dean roared. “Don’t touch her!”

The evil creature turned back to the hunter. “She’s not even real, Dean. You sold your soul for hers, remember? This is where _she_ was supposed to be, not you. Maybe you need a little reminder of what my original plans were, huh?” Alistair’s face contorted to something that was beyond imaginable evil. He held the bloody knife in front of him and licked it. “Delicious.” Without hesitation, he drove the sharp metal into the flesh beneath her ribs as it was painstakingly slow to be pushed in.

Her screams were enough to fill Dean with more pain than any of Alistair's torture had ever inflicted. Just imagining her at the demon's mercy, alone and scared in the pits of Hell, tore him into fragmented pieces.

“ _Stop_!” Dean begged. “Stop!”

“You love her, don’t you, Dean?” Alistair moved to her other side and ran the cold blade across her exposed breast. “You never told her though. Tsk tsk. What a shame.” Again, he sliced into her skin. “Say it, Dean. Say the words.” Dean could smell the iron of Y/N’s blood and it destroyed his senses. “Tell her what you were too cowardly to say.”

Tears crashed down Dean’s blood-soaked face and his voice broke. “I love her!”

A disgusting smile crept up Alistair’s face as his eyes peered back at the Winchester. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” With his knife at Y/N’s throat, he began to slowly cut through as he drug it across her neck. Her warm essence began to flow from her broken veins as she choked on her own blood.

“Y/N! _No_!” Sobbing beyond control, Dean felt his heart being ripped in two. “I said it, you son of a bitch! I said it! Stop! _Stop it!”_

“Oh, I know. And you know what? Now, I know exactly how to rip you apart in the best of ways Dean.” Slithering back to Dean, Alistair hovered over him. “I can keep her alive no matter what I do to her and make sure she feels every piece of flesh I tear from her pretty little body. And we’ll do it again tomorrow, and again the next day…and again…and again.” He turned back to Y/N as she continued to suffer well after she should have collapsed. “Don’t look away, Dean, because I’m just getting started.” With his attention solely fixed back to the bloody female hunter, the demon cocked his head at her. He feigned his desire to listen to the words Y/N tried to cry out and he cupped his ear. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t quite catch that. Why don’t you speak a little louder so Dean can hear you?”

Gurgling came from her throat and poured from her lips. With what little strength she had left, Y/N's strangled voice released soft words.“I love…you…”

With a dramatic and forced gasp, the demon beamed. “Oh, what a beautiful love story. If only it wasn’t too late for you both. You could have had her, Dean. And now, _I_ have her.” Alistair cackled as he began to cut Y/N's flesh into ribbons as her drowned out cries turned to whimpers.

“Please, Dean…help…me.”

 _“Help me, Dean,_ ” he mocked as he perfectly imitated her voice and what was left of Dean grew sick at the sound. “It’s funny, you sacrificed yourself for her, and yet–I still get everything I wanted. You’re here, she’s here…it’s magical, really. This will be your job soon enough, so it’s best you take notes. Now, watch closely…” The demon smirked at Dean and licked his lips. “You wanted her heart? Allow me.”

The melody of “Dream on Little Broomstick Cowboy” played all around. Its blaring words loud enough to match the screams of Y/N’s pleas for death. Alistair hummed along as he continued to abuse the hunter’s mind.

Hell’s unfathomable torment had begun to strip Dean of his humanity. As the two hunters cried out for each other through their guttural shrieks of pain, Dean knew Alistair had him right where he wanted him. He had found Dean’s weak spot.

The Winchester’s body flailed as he weakly attempted to free himself. He knew Hell would be more than he could handle, but never did Dean imagine that his eternity would be spent watching the woman he loved be tortured into madness.

There was no greater form of suffering. There was nothing that could break him more.

Hell was his inability to save her. It was more than his body breaking; it was the breaking of his will to exist.

_So dream on, little broomstick cowboy,_   
_Dream while you can_   
_For soon, you'll be a dreadful thing_   
_My son, you'll be a man..._


End file.
